The Horseman and The Hooded Crane
by Miaiko-sama
Summary: Dr. Jonathan Crane suspects Rachel Dawes is getting a little too close to his and Ra's operation. The interested young assistant D.A will soon realize just how deep the rabbit hole goes. Crane/Dawes] (Batman Begins)
1. Chapter 1: The Suspicion

_**The Horseman and The Hooded Crane  
By: Miaiko-sama**_

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From a psychiatrists point of view, nothing is more interesting than a criminally insane patient- trying to understand the way they think, their reasons for why they feel compelled to do what they do. Perhaps this was why Dr. Jonathan Crane, chief psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum surrounded himself with them. A professional curiosity that in time- grew to be an obsession. Some say that to be a great psychiatrist, to understand the way the warped mind of an insane patient thinks, you yourself must be at least a little unhinged.  
Well, in the case of Jonathan Crane you would be right indeed. Behind closed doors nobody really knows for certain what happens between doctor and patient, and mind is a terribly fragile thing. Who would ever believe the words of a loon over that of their doctors?  
Cue Rachel Dawes, Assistant District Attorney. The attractive brunette had always felt a little wary of the doctor- his handsome features and shocking blue eyes doing little to soothe her distrust. Every time she met his gaze she couldn't help but feel as if he was dissecting her, like one of his patients. His eyes held a glint of something she couldn't quite put her finger on, hiding just beyond her reach. That something, as she would soon find out- was pure madness.

"Doctor Crane?"  
"Yes Felecia?"  
"Miss Dawes is in early for her appointment"  
"Have her wait, I'm just about done in here." Jonathan's finger left the button on his phone marked 'intercom' but his face was not that of Jonathan Crane.

He was Scarecrow.  
Cold eyes stared down at his patient- Magdolyn Bishop, an intern working in the D.A's office. She was fairly pretty girl with pale features and light blonde hair. Her dull grey eyes stared ahead, almost lifeless. She was shaking helplessly on the tan jute carpet, and aside from the occasional whimper she was silent with what could only be described as pure unadulterated fear. Scarecrow took off his mask, and like Mr. Hyde leaving Dr. Jekyll to pick up the pieces he moved quickly to get what he needed. From his desk he pulled out a small syringe, he checked the unit scale before removing the cap and giving Miss Bishop her injection. Slightly agitated at the interruption, but almost giddy at the prospect of getting under Rachel Dawes skin, he dragged Magdolyn's small form into the room adjacent to his office. His disheveled hair fell in front of his ice colored eyes, but for some reason he waited until he opened the door to the waiting room before clawing a hand through it. He noted that Rachel had noticed.  
"Miss Dawes, you're early."

His lips formed a polite smile that Rachel had refused to mirror, obviously not in the mood to deal with whatever mind games the Doctor had thought to play. Strictly business as usual. She let the suited man move off to the side, then strode into the office when he gestured for her to enter.  
The door clicked behind her.  
"Do you think I'm stupid?" She whipped her head around to face the psychiatrist, miscalculating how close he was- which to her discontent caused her to angle her irritated gaze upwards. Suddenly she wished she hadn't taken off her heels before leaving the D.A's office. Standing opposite from him (both literally and intellectually in the case of Carmine Falcone) she felt more confident when she rivaled his height.

Doctor Crane made his way to the beautiful cherry wood desk placed in the far left corner of the room and sat down gingerly. He then began organizing his notes on Bishop, pushing them into a large manila envelope and locking them in the top drawer.  
"Miss Dawes" He sighed, professional courtesy never leaving his words.  
"Every time you come into my office I'm met with such hostility." He saw the petite woman fidget from his peripherals and smirked to himself as he stood from his desk. With one eye never leaving her, Crane replaced himself in one of two large chairs, closer to the center of the room. Rachel made a point to keep standing- it did not go unnoticed.  
"To answer your question, no. I don't believe you are stupid."  
"Then why do you insist on treating me like I am?" She said quickly, her eyes boring into his. The doctor grew uneasy, wondering exactly how much the young woman knew.  
"Miss Dawes, your delusions are beginning to-"  
"Oh spare me, Crane. You continuing to chalk my words up to delusions won't work-"  
"Doctor." Jonathan counter-interrupted, noticeably irritated by her lack of honorifics.

Rachel pushed again, the irritation on his face secretly pleasing her and fueling her suspicions of him, she continued.  
"You continue to do the same old song and dance, but I know you're up to something. I can see it."  
"I understand that you want to blame faulty police work and sloppy depositions on something, or rather someone to feel better about the outcome in the courtroom, but your allegations simply aren't true. We're both on the same side here." Crane chided. A 'tsk' escaped Rachel's lips. She was not buying it.  
"I highly doubt that, Crane. I fight to make sure murderers are put in Blackgate, not thrown in a sewing circle to talk about their daddy issues for a few months."  
"Doctor, Miss Dawes." He voiced again, this time with a less forgiving tone.  
"That's what you'll need- a doctor. Because only insane men deal with Falcone." Jonathan felt a 'pang' in his chest at that last jab, staring ahead as Rachel stood up from her seat and moved toward the door.  
"And we both know where insane men end up. See you in court." She finished, closing the door behind her to let her words sink in.

Jonathan kept the same tolerant expression on his face for a good minute, his intense glare burning a hole into the fine leather of the chair Miss Dawes had occupied. He forced himself to stand, then paced around the room, his hair once again falling over his eyes as his expression darkened. Obviously Falcone didn't have as tight of a hold on 'his' city as he had originally thought. But that wasn't all his fault necessarily- some people just couldn't be bought off.

Rachel Dawes option not to fall in line would prove to be her downfall, and Jonathan couldn't wait to see her come crashing down from that high horse.

Early Monday morning Gotham Federal Court adjourned. Rachel Dawes donned a classic black skirt suit with matching pumps and a sleek ponytail. She smiled at Carl Finch, Gotham's District Attorney and took her seat to the right of the room closest to the aisle. She then opened her briefcase and scanned over the details of today's hearing, serial killer Victor Zsasz. Reading over her files she cringed, hoping her visit with Dr. Crane opened his eyes. The brunette took a long sip of coffee and sighed, Mr. Zsasz's 'zombies' as he called them were all listed, his murder signature apparent with every single one of them- and the substantial amounts of evidence left at the crime scenes were miles long. There was no way a respectable person could allow this man to get out of jail- The key element, of course being a respectable individual. Rachel hated to admit it, but with the way things were going- Jonathan Crane's analysis of Zsasz's mental instability would hold the most weight in the outcome of the hearing. In the back of her head she wished Judge Faden wasn't in.  
The prisoner was ushered into the court room via the door opposite the judge's chambers, and soon after Dr. Crane followed. The two met eyes for a second longer than a glance, and Rachel could have sworn she saw him wink. Despite her loathing of the man, she held her breath when he entered the room... She pretended to drink her coffee.

"All rise for the honorable Judge Faden." The bailiff voiced, chairs creaking and the sound of wood scraping against marble tile echoed throughout the courtroom. Faden entered from his chambers and called court to order.  
The defense and prosecution reiterated their depositions and as predicted, Dr. Jonathan Crane, Arkham's chief psychiatrist was soon called to the stand.

"Doctor Crane, could you briefly summarize your analysis of the defendant after your evaluation last week?" The psychiatrist nodded, taking his seat beside the bench. He loathed that once again he had to step in and save one of Carmine Falcone's grunts from a little bit of time at Blackgate Penitentiary. To be perfectly honest he'd rather let them both rot away in some piss-poor cell,. He could only imagine how long Falcone would last with so many rival scumbags biding their time behind bars.  
"In my opinion Mr. Zsasz is as much a danger to himself as to others, and prison is probably not the best environment for his rehabilitation." His monotonous voice was slightly amplified by the microphone in front of him. Judge Faden dismissed the doctor and continued with the sentencing.  
As Dr. Crane stepped down from the stand he glanced at Rachel who was visually distressed, shuffling her papers and putting them into her bag. He could tell she was painfully aware that Mr. Zsasz wouldn't be doing any time for his crimes and had to be getting sick of this, but Crane couldn't help feeling just a little smug at her defeat.

"Doctor Crane?"  
"Ah, Miss Dawes." The psychiatrist feigned surprise at the sound of the feisty brunette, quickening her pace to catch up to him. He made no attempt to slow his pace and continued to stare straight ahead at his destination.

"Do you really think a man who butchers people for the mob doesn't belong in jail?" She asked, refusing to let the issue go- like a mad dog. He had to admit he admired her determination, albeit the wrong side of the playing field.

"I would hardly have testified to that otherwise would I, Miss Dawes?" He quipped, still walking at his regular pace. Rachel- being ever so passionate about the subject, moved quickly to cut him off.

"This is the third of Carmine Falcone's thugs you've had declared insane and moved into your asylum." Rachel secretly felt pleasure in rivaling his height. Jonathan's eye twitched. She was indeed getting too close to the situation and due to Carmine's ineptitude, he was on the ropes.

"Well, the work offered by organized crime must have an attraction to the insane." He said 'matter of factly' taking on the defensive in this now, un-amusing conversation. Jonathan clenched his jaw and made his way for the wooden doors behind Rachel, brushing her aside. The brunette- refusing to let him close the door on her, turned heel and followed after the man.  
"...Or the corrupt." She challenged, aiming for his credibility. Dr. Crane stopped suddenly in front of her and silenced a groan, his eyes scanning the room before landing on a familiar face interacting with a blonde co-worker.

"Mr. Finch." He called.  
"I think you should check with Miss Dawes here just what implications your office has authorized her to make." Jonathan said, dragging out the syllables of her name as a final taunt.

"If any." He added quickly with a tight lipped smile before he resumed walking past Carl Finch and striding right out of the courthouse.

After a surprisingly satisfying talk with Falcone and a few words on his progress to put Ra's at ease, Jonathan went back to seeing his patients. Namely Miss Bishop, who for the most part had been responding fairly well to her treatments.

"I had another nightmare, Doctor Crane." The woman said, looking completely unhinged.  
"I feel like I'm losing my mind, I don't know what's real anymore... I-" She cried, barely able to stand upon being ushered into his office. This woman was clearly a crisis case.  
"Shhh, Miss Bishop. You should give in to the fear." Dr. Crane grabbed his 'special briefcase' and rested it on his desk.

"Do you think Falcone is still looking for me? Could I- go home?"

"Now, now, Miss Bishop. We can't afford to take that chance. We don't know for certain, and I'm beginning to think that you wouldn't be safe without supervision- especially with your delusions."  
"After all I'm only doing what I think is best for you." He chided, unlocking the latches of the case and taking out a burlap mask. Jonathan enjoyed testing the fear gas's effects on her, she was a perfect guinea pig, but with the time at hand so close, he couldn't afford to keep any loose ends. Magdolyn turned her attention to the Doctor, only to be temporarily blinded by the gas. When her vision returned, all she could see was the Scarecrow- The horrible scarecrow that plagued her to no end. A blood curdling scream escaped her lips as she tried to scramble away from the living nightmare before her.  
"Oh God please, not again." She choked, repeating the words over and over again until her voice was barely a whisper.

Scarecrow's plans were in motion, and he doubted at this point he could even stop himself if he wanted to.

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**[Author's Note:]**

Yayyy I'm back!  
Okay, so I was watching Batman Begins and really loved the idea of Rachel and Crane getting together- so obviously that's how this story came to be. I'm kinda playing it by ear, but I like the ideas I have so far sooo- we'll see how this goes. Tell me what you think of it is so far and I'll update when I can =)

-Miaiko-sama :)


	2. Chapter 2: The Vigilante

**The Horseman and The Hooded Crane**  
**Miaiko-sama**  
**Ch.2**

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_[Small Author's Note:] I introduced a little "Anarky" for you avid DC comic readers. (I hope my pun is understood, because I worked really hard on it)_

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Rachel made her way to the Wayne built monorail after another long day at the office. Her feet ached and she was fatigued after skipping lunch to work on building a new case against another one of Gotham's finest, Lonnie Machin. The brunette walked through the metal turnstile and waited on the deserted platform for the red eye, clutching her back tightly to her chest until she heard the metallic clanking of the oncoming train. For once, the train was actually on time. Lucky.

She boarded the empty car toward the back and took a seat close to the door, hiding her bag off to the side to thwart any unwanted attention via pickpockets or purse snatchers. At first, she stared ahead- surprised to see someone else in the car that she assumed was empty. The man on his cell phone looked oddly familiar but she couldn't put a name with his face. As the door closed she still couldn't think of his name and soon gave up, turning her attention out the window to watch the tall buildings fly by. Her thoughts returned to Crane for a moment and she sighed to herself, she had a feeling they would be meeting again- and quite soon. Instead of feeling disgust this time, when Rachel's mind drifted- it was to the beautiful contrast of his dark hair and ice colored eyes. She thought of the way he looked when he ran his fingers through his unkempt hair in his office, secretly wondering what kind of work he had been doing that day to cause such a messy appearance. As her mind wandered again she shook her head, silently cursing herself for even entertaining the notion that a man like Jonathan Crane could ever be considered remotely attractive to her.

The monorail slowed and Rachel moved her bag to her shoulder, standing up to clutch the metal bar beside the doors. She glanced over at the man seated toward the end of the car, meeting eyes with him before he looked away- staring at nothing in particular as he mumbled into his phone. The brunette, in that moment felt unease creep into the pit of her stomach. She had only glanced at him for a second, but he had already been staring at her. Luckily, he made no attempt to stand as the doors opened- but the feeling of unease still lingered with her as she exited the car. From the platform the slender woman made her way swiftly down the first flight of stairs toward the exit for the street. The monorail's departure from the platform echoed throughout the dimly lit stairwell, and once again the area was completely deserted. As she reached the final set of stairs Rachel let her guard down, loosening her grip on her purse but keeping her pace. She dreamed of a future Gotham where women would be able to walk home without taking such drastic precautionary measures to avoid assault, she hoped her job at the D.A's office was moving the city toward that future.  
She let her arm fall to her side, exhaling as she reached the top of the next flight of stairs- hesitating for a moment when a tall man with broad shoulders, almost like a body builder, came walking briskly up the stairs. Rachel moved off to the side, her heart racing as she looked behind her shoulder for an escape route. Behind her, the man from the train quickened his pace to box her in. Unlucky. The alarmed woman looked forward- about to run past the body builder with the shaved head when he pushed her back, away from the stairs. In that moment she whipped her head around and hit the man from the train with her bag, then rummaged through it and took out her tazer gun.

"Hold it!" The brunette pointed the gun at the man in her way, completely oblivious to the Batman taking out the second thug behind her. The guy's partner turned pale, obviously not in the mood to get his face kicked in- he tucked tail and ran. Rachel smirked at her assumed victory.  
"That's right, you better run!" She called before turning around to threaten the other guy. As she turned, a large black silhouette of the Batman stood before her, shocking her senses. Without a second thought she shot her taser at him, eyes widening as she quickly noticed that her weapon was shit. The woman cursed mentally as he ripped the electrodes off of his Kevlar.

"Falcone sent them to kill you." His comically deep, raspy voice echoed slightly as he spoke.  
"Why?"  
"You rattled his cage." The Batman tossed photos in front of her. Rachel made a point to keep eye contact, deciding not to reach for whatever it was that he threw to her.  
"What's this?"  
"Leverage."  
"For what?" Suspicion clung to her like a jealous lover- it came with the job.  
"To get things moving."  
"Who are you?"  
"Someone like you..." Rachel moved cautiously to pick up the photos, her eyes fixed and never leaving the masked vigilante.  
"Someone who rattled cages." She glanced down quickly, surprised to see photos of Judge Faden with a blonde woman. Her eyes flickered up, but Batman had vanished just as quickly as he came.

The befuddled woman looked down at her attacker, then turned around in a haze when the monorail patrolman called up to her.

Things were looking up, and she could feel her luck returning.

"Dr. Crane, thank you for coming."  
"Not at all, he cut his wrists?" Jonathan inquired as he made his way down the precinct's suicide watch holding area, following a female officer who obviously wasn't happy with her prisoner.  
"Probably looking for the insanity plea, but if anything should happen..."  
"Of course, better safe than sorry." He said sincerely as they came upon Carmine Falcone's room, fighting the urge not to roll his eyes as he did so. The woman before him punched a numerical code into a small keypad by the door handle and the door gave an electronic hum in response, unlocking the deadbolt.  
Crane entered, observing Falcone's poor attitude as well as his manners- a normal greeting from the likes of him.

"Hey, uh- Dr. Crane. I can't take it anymore, it's all too much. The walls are closin' in, blah- blah- blah." Jonathan's face was placid as he continued.  
"Eh, a couple days of this food, it'll be true." Carmine's inner city accent dripped with sarcasm, just as Crane remembered from their previous talks. He sat down at the table placed in the center of the white tiled room and rested his briefcase close to his left.  
"What do you want?" He sighed, shoulders slouching downward as he reluctantly engaged the vermin in conversation. He noticed the bandages on the former crime boss of Gotham's wrists.  
"I wanna know how you're gonna convince me to keep my mouth shut." Falcone intended to barter.  
"About what? You don't know anything." Crane could have laughed. Instead of cutting him off, he let the man speak, it was cute to see him think he had any real power- especially at this stage of the operation.  
"I know you don't want the cops to take a closer look at the drugs they seized. And I know about your experiments with the inmates of your nut house. See- I don't go into business with a guy without finding out his dirty secrets." He said confident in his position to negotiate his own demands.  
"Y'know, those goons you used, I own the muscle in this town." As Falcone went on, obviously still believing that his opinion was valuable, when it was in fact worthless- Crane kept a straight, blank face.  
"Now, I've been bringing this stuff in for months. So, whatever he's plannin', it's big and I want in." Ah finally there it was, the end game. Always with the money, so predictable- Jonathan fought to roll his eyes yet again.  
"Well, I already know what he'll say. That we should kill you." He said honestly, the doctor was through playing nice.  
"Nah, even he can't get me in here, not in my town." Carmine brushed off Jonathan's words, deciding to put faith in his power over all else.  
Crane took a long breath of narcissism that had filled the air of the clean white holding cell. He then exhaled loudly, taking off his glasses and contemplating just how badly Ra's scolding would be for disposing the man ahead of schedule. His thoughts then drifted to the crusader of justice herself, Rachel Dawes. He thought about the thugs Falcone had sent to kill her and suddenly felt a slight twinge of jealousy- then and there he made up his mind. The mad doctor realized that he would be the one to deal with Miss Dawes, personally. And anyone who got in his way or did the deed themselves would be met with the same blast of concentrated Fear Gas as Miss Bishop.

"Would you like to see my mask?" Carmine's eyebrows raised at the question.  
"I use it in my experiments." He said, almost giddy as he unlatched the locks of his 'special briefcase'. The doctor clicked on the breathing apparatus from behind his case, then moved the burlap mask into view so Falcone could gaze upon his pride and joy. It was a scarecrow. A harmless, poorly made scarecrow, with a sewn mouth and two holes for eyes.  
"Probably not very frightening to a guy like you, but these crazies... they can't stand it." He said with excitement biting at the heels of his every word.  
"So when did the nut take over the nut house?" He jeered as the doctor put the mask over his head. Much like with Miss Bishop, Scarecrow pushed the weaponized gas canister built into his briefcase, which emitted a burst of Fear Gas into Carmine Falcone's face. Instantly, his face contoured into a horrified expression and his screams began to reverberate off the crisp white walls.  
"They scream, and they cry. Just as you're doing now." Crane heard the female officer begin fiddling with the door handle, calling out his name and asking if he was alright. He couldn't help but think 'Never better.' Falcone on the other hand, flung himself as far away from the horrifying Scarecrow as his chains could allow. Each eye hole, an empty black abyss- ready to devour his soul.  
"We'll play again soon." He said before ripping off the mask and shoving it into his case.

"Well, he's not faking. Not that one." The doctor exclaimed to the confused woman, who had only now witnessed Falcone's instability.  
"I'll talk to the Judge and see if I can get him moved to the secure wing at Arkham. I can't treat him here." Crane said walking down the hall, back the way he came and up the stairs.

As Crane was making his way back to The Narrows, his men moonlighting as officers informed him that Carl Finch got too close to the operation and had to be taken out. A shame, really. He liked Carl.  
Jonathan then called a couple grunts to meet at the drop off point to dispose of the evidence before anybody else decided to get 'too close'. They soon came to his location and within minutes they arrived at the apartment, leaving no time for err. Crane unlocked the door, then shined a flashlight inside, inspecting the area before resting his gaze on a pile of stuffed animals.  
"Get rid of all traces."  
"Torch the whole place." One of his guys said to the other.  
"Alright." The two began dowsing the stuffed animals and furniture with gasoline, and soon the fumes filled the entire apartment. Jonathan looked straight ahead, noticing the door that led to the fire escape was wide open. Senses on high alert as the muscle got to work, the doctor inspected the door, looking outside into the bleak rainy night- staring down at the empty alleyway below.  
Suddenly a crash of shattering glass from the back of the apartment turned his attention to the fact that they were not alone. With the suspicious noise, Crane moved to the corner of the room, shadows aiding him in his goal to stay hidden. He watched as Batman unknowingly mirrored his movements from the area across from him, stalking Jonathan's grunt as he fumbled with a cheap Zippo to assist him in seeing whatever was lurking in the darkness. Scarecrow put on his mask quickly, rustling with it in the corner like a nervous school boy. Batman came at the thug from his blind spot with swift precision, clocking him in the temple- out cold.

Before Bats could turn his attention to finding him, Crane jumped out of the dark with a blast of the fear toxin from a small canister on his wrist. Batman staggered back, too easy. The vigilante was definitely hyped up in the tabloids.  
"Oh, having trouble?" The masked crime fighter's eyes widened in fear, but he refused to scream. His will was strong- he had to give the man that much at least. His hallucinations caused his arms to flail, swatting at something only he himself could see. Jonathan wished terribly that he could envision what the big bad bat was afraid of, but for now- it didn't matter.

By proxy Scarecrow was what The Batman most feared.

"Take a seat, have a drink." He growled, splashing an amber liquid on him as The Bat flailed to get it off.  
"You look like a man who takes himself too seriously." Scarecrow flicked open the Zippo.  
"Do you want my opinion?" Batman's fear was now directed to the lighter flickering in front of him.  
"You need to lighten up." With that last sentence he threw the lighter, setting the caped crusader aflame- he ignited in seconds, jumping out the window in an attempt to save himself. The vigilante plunged to the first floor, right on top of the car Crane and his lackeys had arrived in. (Rude.) Still aflame, he threw himself from the car to the ground.  
Scarecrow exited down the fire escape, watching as Bats re-enacted a 'Stop, Drop, Roll' that would make the After School Special proud. He then disappeared down a side street, but the doctor had lost interest as soon as the fire went out. Crane took off his mask, shoving it into his briefcase before ditching his still unconscious men and the car, opting to walk threw The Narrows to Arkham in the rain.  
As he made his way to the asylum Jonathan couldn't help but laugh. First it came out as a snicker, then a giggle to a full blown maniacal laugh.

"What a great night."

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**[Author's note:] **Well, look at me, being all punctual with my updates and shit. There may be a delay with my next update, depending on my creativity- but since I wrote 80% of this in a bubble bath, maybe I can inspire myself to write more with another one. Anyway, I hope you're enjoying the way the story is progressing because I've literally watched this movie for references so many times I have my master's degree in Batman Begins. Til the next chapter- please rate/read more of my stories!  
(I know not much happens in this chapter, but it paves way for the big one. I needed to work their lurve into the story first!)

~Miaiko-sama


	3. Chapter 3: The Collision

**The Horseman and The Hooded Crane**  
_By Miaiko-sama  
_

___Chapter 3_

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The night sky of Gotham was ablaze with pollution, causing a red tint to fall over the city that mixed with the haze of the rain. Rachel looked out at the downpour which had only started moments before she had arrived at her destination. The young woman had been checking with Carl Finch's contacts in The Narrows after the District Attorney's cell phone began going straight to voice-mail each time she called him. Something was off- even when they had stopped seeing each other Carl never ignored her calls or turned off his phone.

As she left her last possible lead's home, she stood under their threshold to open her umbrella before stepping outside. Rachel was reluctant to return to the monorail so late, especially after her encounter with Falcone's hit-men and the Batman- but unfortunately it was her only option for transportation since her car was in the shop. As she started on the quickest possible route, Arkham Asylum could be seen from a distance- dark and looming over the broken city.

Rachel continued toward her destination, lost in thought as she came up on a side street. Suddenly, she was knocked to the ground, breathless- she let out a loud airy cry of surprise as she reached for her taser and pointed it at the dark figure that had plowed into her.  
"...Ow." The figure on the ground said, annoyance lacing his voice as if Rachel was the person responsible for the collision.  
"Sorry."  
"Watch it." The man picked himself up, shooting a dirty look at the woman as she lowered her taser.  
"You ran into me." She shot back, bringing her left leg to her chest so she could inspect the damage from the pavement. As she started to pick herself up, she was immediately kicked back down.

"You've got a smart mouth, honey. What makes you think you can sass me after knocking me over and ruining my good pants?" He growled, advancing on the brunette who was now scrambling to her feet in an attempt to get away- he then pulled her back by the collar of her coat. She cursed her hot temper.  
"Help!" He covered her mouth with his free hand.  
"Hey, wait a second… Aren't you that D.A bitch that got my brother locked up?" He sneered, upon further inspection of her features.  
"Well, fuck me." He exclaimed, keeping a tight hold on the brunette's hair.  
"Let's say you make it up to me, eh?" He laughed, throwing her into a few metal trash cans down the street he had just came from. Rachel braced herself for the fall, throwing her hands out in front of her before impact. A searing pain shot up from her leg, making her see stars as she attempted to regain her composure. Just then, she heard her attacker cry out from behind.  
Her heart raced as she turned over on her side in an attempt to sneak a peek.  
"Batman?"  
"Sorry, toots. Wrong vigilante." A frank voice responded from the darkness, she watched as the person made his way over to her.  
"Rachel Dawes?" He exclaimed when he got close enough to see her face. The soaked, bruised woman saw a hand extend out to her and suddenly began to recognize the voice. She took the hand and used it for balance until she could stand on her own, then looked up-  
"Crane?" She blurted out, shocked at the identity of her unlikely savior.  
"Doctor, Miss Dawes." He sighed, curious as to why she was in the area.  
"Lost in the wrong neighborhood?" He asked rather smugly, causing her to huff at his remark. She remembered her attacker, and looked down.  
"We should call the police." She said, hobbling to the area where she had dropped her things.  
"They won't come." He said in a way that sent a shiver down her spine.  
"A petty assault isn't nearly enough to bring an officer to the Narrows alone, Miss Dawes." She stopped her limping into the street and cursed. It was sad, but true- nobody would risk coming to the area.  
"What are you even doing out here?" Rachel asked the doctor, it was weird to see him in such a setting- let alone fighting crime and saving damsels in distress. He pointed off into the distance at the gloomy Arkham Asylum.  
"Home is thatta way." He said sarcastically.  
"More importantly, what are _you_ doing out here? …And alone, no less." The psychiatrist said, walking closer to her. Another shiver went up her spine and she stood rigid as he stopped inches from her to pick up her soaked purse. Rachel's heart raced- she blamed it on her adrenaline.  
"I was looking into something." She stuttered as he remained inches from her. Crane smirked at her nervousness. To stir things up he moved forward again, brushing against her as he picked up her taser, which had fallen as she was dragged away. He held it out with a smile, observing her as she snatched the weapon from his hand.  
"I trust it was worth it?" He arched an eyebrow, curious as to what she was looking into. For his trouble, the man received the classic Rachel Dawes icy stare- he smirked.  
"Alright, I apologize. Are you ok?"  
"Yeah, I'm fine." Her limp said otherwise.  
"Really…?" He sighed.  
"What?"  
"Just admit you're hurt and I'll help." He stopped himself from rolling his eyes.  
"I'm fine, there's nothing you could-"  
"I can patch you up and take you home. As you seem to forget quite often Miss Dawes, I am a doctor." Rachel sighed at his words, dropping her hands to her sides as the rain continued to pour. Her umbrella had flown away in all the commotion, and getting a ride would beat walking home in the rain like an idiot, inviting more danger.  
"M.D." He said, mouthing the letters and staring at her with the same intense expression he wore in every debate they've ever had. Dark strands of hair matted his face, only adding to the intensity.  
"Fine, fine." She relented.

* * * * * *  
"Honey, I'm home!" Crane called out as the front gates to his asylum opened. Rachel rolled her eyes and waited for the head of security to greet them.

"Hello Barry." Jonathan smiled as the man ran down to the gates in a heavy coat and rubber galoshes.  
"Oh, Dr. Crane. What happened to your ride?" The guard's words made the assistant D.A quirk an eyebrow as they were ushered to the guard kiosk.  
"Car trouble." The doctor said monotonously, grabbing the keys to one of the security patrol vehicles parked alongside the small building.  
"Get in." He called to Rachel who soon ran over to the patrol cart, grateful they didn't have to walk up the long and winding driveway. The dark haired guard helped her into the backseat before moving to the front and getting behind the wheel. Once they reached the front door another guard greeted Crane and ushered them inside as Barry drove back to his post. Rachel, as usual couldn't help but allow her eyes to drift back to Jonathan. Something curious about him made her both uneasy and strangely pulled toward his charismatic persona. She found herself drifting behind the man as he made his way through the familiar halls of his asylum, much like a ghost. Silently falling in step with his echoing footsteps, rhythmic but also fleeting as the floor's carpeting found it's way under their feet. After a few twists and turns that she certainly wouldn't have remembered on her own without help from a few orderlies, they were finally outside of Crane's office. He reached for his keys and fiddled with them for a moment before finding the key to his door. He seemed like a janitor or an olde time jailer with so many keys, but though excessive it wasn't necessarily suspicious for the chief psychiatrist of a mental hospital. The door then opened with a thick click from the deadbolt.  
"Please, come in." Crane said, ushering the limping woman inside before checking the hallway for any unwanted attention. He craned his head upward in an attempt to see around the corner of the hall before realizing that on his floor, aside from a few security cameras, they were completely isolated from the rest of the hospital.  
Home turf advantage.

* * * * * *  
Jonathan Crane observed Rachel making her way to the sleek lack chair closest to her- it was almost too easy, her coming to the asylum so late. He couldn't have planned it better himself if he tried. The doctor waited a moment before making his way over to the brunette, who had now seated herself at the edge of the chair, exhaling in pain as she extended her leg. Jonathan grabbed a small medical kit from the back room as she inspected the damage, brushing what pieces of dirt and pavement still clung to her skin and torn stocking. Rachel, though she hated to admit it, was was thankful that he had prevented the altercation from escalating any further. She doubted that she would have walked away at all, had he not shown up. The assistant D.A was surprised that Dr. Crane of all people, someone who didn't seem all that muscular- could get the best of someone so much bigger than him, he was actually quite lanky from what she could tell. The thought of the doctor's physique made Rachel visually uncomfortable, especially now that he appeared before her on bended knee to tend to her wound.

_'Get it together Rachel.' _She thought, staring intently at the wound to avoid looking the doctor in the eyes. Jonathan inspected the already bruising abrasion and made a faux wince to portray an emotion that wasn't unbelievably rude in this scenario. He somehow doubted Rachel would appreciate him smiling gleefully.  
"Take them off." He commanded, adjusting his glasses.  
"Excuse me?" She said breathlessly.  
"Please remove your stockings so that I may treat your abrasions, Miss Dawes." Dr. Crane said carefully constructing his sentence so that it sounded as professional as possible. Jonathan, suddenly realizing how exposed the woman must feel, took off his glasses and began rubbing at them absently- this time fighting to keep the air from turning even more awkward than it already was.

Rachel, feeling silly for thinking otherwise, complied. Slowly reaching for the waistband of her stockings, she wiggled in her seat and after bending her long tanned leg inward she was finally able to slide one foot out of the sheer, wet, nylon material without feeling too exposed. As the woman pulled at her stocking, Jonathan's eyes sensing movement- looked up. The two's eyes met and lingered for a few seconds, before Crane cleared his throat and returned this glasses to the bridge of his nose.  
"J-Judging by the way you have been distributing your weight to your opposite leg, at worse you may have bruised the bone." The doctor said hurriedly, inspecting the wound from afar. Rachel seemed to listen intently, but both knew the situation was bound to get even more awkward. After a few moments Jonathan decided he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, taking the leftover fabric of her stocking and pulling her leg out of the torn nude material. In that moment, the woman jolted upright, hissing through her teeth at the feeling of the coagulated blood fused with nylon separating from her skin. Somehow she managed to grab his hand before he could retract, and squeezed until the pain subsided before letting go. She stared at him for a moment, curious at his expression when they lost contact.  
"I'll need to use disinfectant." He said frankly, taking an alcohol swab from his medical kit.  
"No, no, no. Wait-" She pleaded, biting her lip as he quickly began his work on her wounds. Strands of wet hair clung to the sides of her face and Crane's eyes intensified as he watched her squirm at his touch. Having such an intense reaction from the Assistant D.A. amazed him almost as much as his experiments. He felt his mouth go dry as he watched Rachel bite down on her lip, and though he knew he was finished cleaning her wounds he couldn't help himself as he went for another swab.  
"Crane!" The fresh sting of a new alcohol pad caused the brunette to grip the edges of the chair and muffle a small squeak of pain. Their eyes met again, and Rachel's tear rimmed ones dilated at the sight of him, holding her slick wet leg in his arms as she bucked away from the sting of the antiseptic. His messy wet hair...  
"Doctor." Time stood still and Crane suddenly found himself with a new urge. He had seen Rachel's emotions range from pain, to anger and unease- but this time he yearned for something different. The man's hand reached out, hesitantly at first- as he soon gained the courage needed to move the wet hair from Rachel's face. She sat perfectly still, uncertain of the doctor's motives- but soon found herself lost in his piercing crystalline blue gaze. The feeling of her damp skin underneath his fingertips was like an electric shock, and soon he wanted more.

* * *

**[Author's Note:] **

_Oh yas. They finally got some o' da business. Haha. Well- now that I've watched Bats Begins for the millionth time, quoting almost every scene with Crane by heart, I feel like I can say I really went all out to research for this fanfiction. _  
_YOU'RE WELCOME. ...Or if you happen to hate this fic, I TRIED._  
_Also, pertaining to more Crane related things... I've gotten my first request to do another oneshot Crane/Dawes. We'll see how that works out, I try my best not to make my characters OOC because it just doesn't feel right no matter how I pace the story- BUT I WILL DO THIS, probably because it's a request, definitely because I'm curious._

_Also also, and very lastly I have been working on a fem cosplay of Arkham Asylum's Scarecrow for New York Comic Con 2014. If you're going, I'll be there Friday only to walk around and possibly/definitely poison you with some of my fear toxin. Stop me for a picture/hug/high five if you'd like! _

_-Miaiko-sama_


	4. Chapter 4: The Distraction

**The Horseman and The Hooded Crane**  
**By: Miaiko-sama**

**Chapter: 4**

* * *

_*Disclaimer: Mature readers only, for adult situations and sexual contact. _

* * *

Rachel's senses burned with excitement, which had both surprised and repulsed her. She shouldn't feel like this, especially with their professional history together. She shouldn't feel this way for a foot soldier of Carmine Falcone... and yet here she was practically falling off of her chair in an attempt to be as close as possible to the man she was loathing only moments before. She moved to stand, hoping he wouldn't touch her again, but inviting it all the same. She observed him as he waited a moment before standing, and then stared up into his eyes, observing his handsome features. It was heartbreaking that someone so perfect could be so flawed, so corrupted. And in a way, she sensed that was what attracted her to him, that madness.

Jonathan glanced down at the brunette with a curious expression before making his way toward his desk, unbuttoning his wet jacket, and placing it on his chair to dry.

Rachel's eyes skimmed over his body, noticing the way his wet shirt clung to him. She quickly realized this was the first time she had really seen him less formally dressed, but soon none of that mattered. His white business shirt was soaked, indicating that he had been in the rain much longer than she had. As he un-tucked his shirt, another thing Rachel had noticed was that he was a tad bit muscular. Not muscular enough to be a fly by night vigilante, but a healthy, toned build for someone of his height. The psychiatrist noticing her prying eye, turned around as he rolled up his sleeves.  
"I can bring your clothes down to the basement to be dried, we have industrial sized dryers for the patient's linens. In the meantime, I can let you borrow something from my closet." He said, making his way to the door beside the exit, and taking out two identical long sleeved white business shirts. Jonathan handed one to Rachel, then began unbuttoning the small, clear buttons of his shirt.  
The woman looked down, pretending not to notice, but viewing his movements with her peripherals.  
Curiosity killed the cat.  
Looking up, she saw a glimpse of his well defined, practically hairless chest. Her eyes traveled downward, glancing at his now visible abdominals, and following the 'v' of his hipbones. Her breath halted, causing her to mentally curse at herself for choosing now of all times to become a peeping tom. The doctor quickly took off his shirt, turning around so that his back faced the Assistant D.A, fumbling to get his arms out of the rolled up sleeves as he did so.

Rachel took this opportunity to quickly undress herself, unbuttoning her wet blouse and unlatching her undergarments. She buttoned up the dry shirt, which was quite big on her, then wiggled out of her wet pencil skirt.  
"Do you happen to have anything I could wear for pants?" The woman asked, feeling slightly exposed- but happy that she managed to ask her question without feeling too silly.  
"Sorry, nothing that would fit you." Jonathan said after a moment, unsuccessful in his search.

He looked back at the woman buttoning up the rest of the shirt, which he had to admit looked much better on her than on himself. The way she looked made him desperately wish he didn't have to walk to the basement.  
"I'll be back. Please, sit down and rest your leg." He said, pocketing his keys and security clearance card before picking up their wet clothes.  
"A-alright, thanks." Rachel said, moving back toward the chair near the middle of the room. She watched as Crane left, then felt a slight 'pang' of unease at the sound of the door locking behind him. She moved to the door, jiggling the handle to make sure she heard correctly, and then paced around the room uncomfortably for what seemed like 10 minutes.  
"Well, think of it this way, it is an asylum. Locking doors shouldn't be that unusual." She said aloud to herself as she leaned against his desk. After a moment, the Assistant D.A realized that she could use this opportunity to her advantage. Had she found any incriminating evidence it most likely wouldn't be admissible in court, but it would still be evidence nonetheless and to Rachel Dawes that made all the difference. She jiggled the handle of the big bottom drawers, normally used for patient files, then tried the top ones. All locked, of course. She groaned, kicking the wooden drawer with her bad leg.  
"SHIT!" She cried out, sitting down on the tabletop and caressing her bandaged leg.

* * *  
Jonathan Crane smirked at the faint sound of the door handle being tried from inside his office, before making his way to the elevator on the far east side of the building. He turned the key to the security lock, then pressed the button for the basement level. The elevator groaned as it opened its doors, and he chucked the wet clothing into one of the empty bins as he walked into the laundry room. He motioned for one of the orderlies to approach him, speaking quickly and carefully.  
"I trust things have been taken care of?"  
"Yeah, luckily for us that D.A bastard used two of the cops on our payroll."  
"We move forward then, as planned. We can't have anyone get that close again."  
"Don't worry, we got eyes on the broad too, she won't know what hit her." Crane's eyes, in that moment lit up like a bonfire.  
"Nobody touches her." He commanded lowly, taking a handful of the orderly's hair in his vice-like grip.  
"She, is, mine." He finished, letting go of the man quickly.  
"Have those dried and sent up to my office." The doctor pointed at the bin containing the wet clothing as he passed.  
"Y-yeah. No problem." The man said, walking away as Crane grabbed a pair of dark grey scrubs from a small pile, then went into a back room to change out of his wet pants, throwing them into the bin as he made his way back to the elevator.  
The brooding psychiatrist slicked his hair back absently, as he moved down the corridor of his floor, then jolted at the faint sound of Rachel's expletive down the hallway. He rushed to his door, unlocking the deadbolt with swift precision before searching the room for an intruder, perhaps of the caped crusader type, all the while clutching his canister of fear toxin that he had slipped into his new dry pants. His eyes fell on a surprised Rachel Dawes, suspiciously close to his desk.  
"I was walking and I tripped." She lied, rather badly.  
"How's the leg?" He said lowly, as he closed the door behind himself, walking over to her.  
"I-it's fine, just sore." She admitted, leaning against the corner of his desk so he could notice her attempt to take the weight off it.  
"Is that right?" His voice stayed low and ominous as he eyed her, once again causing a nervous physical response. She fidgeted under the doctor's gaze, hating the feeling of being under his microscope. The hazel eyed woman made attempts to speak, but for the most part her words were a jumbling mess that only made her look more guilty. Crane's predatory gaze stay fixed on her as she continued.  
"I- I..." Her nervous stuttering ignited a carnal impulse within Crane as he stood over Rachel, and without any physical or verbal warning he struck- attacking her mouth with his in a way that surprised the both of them. The intensity of the collision caused the petite woman to lose her balance, and rely almost completely on the doctor's desk for support. Her mind reeled as she tried her best to comprehend what was happening, but soon she lost her thoughts completely, falling into the sensual motions of Crane's mouth devouring her whole.

Normally when he needed to distract someone, this wasn't the way he would go about it, but this time Jonathan wasn't sure if the distraction was for her, or for himself. As Rachel responded to the kiss, he hid his surprise, wondering why she hadn't pushed him away or slapped him. He inclined his head as he reached out to her, pulling her in and deepening the kiss. The woman responded in kind, taking handfuls of his slightly damp hair and pulling herself into him. The psychologist moaned gently at the tingling sensation of her nails grazing his scalp, and he could have sworn he felt her smirk as she kissed him, but he didn't care.

Rachel's mood went from shocked and nervous to both aroused and amused at the sound of his muffled pleasure. She tugged at his hair slightly, running her fingernails down to his neck, before resting her hands on either side of his face. She had never felt more in control with him, and suddenly she was high from the feeling of knowing how to make the man before her voice his pleasure. She wanted more.

Jonathan quivered slightly at the woman's caresses, euphoric and hungry as she bit at his lip. She tasted like strawberries, and the smell of them blinded him. Her hands traveled and he moaned again, into her mouth as she tugged at the drawstring of his scrubs, bringing him with her as she laid back onto the table top. She smirked again, and this time the doctor caught on.

Rachel sighed deeply as he pulled away from her, breathing in as her bruised lips quivered for more attention. She opened her eyes and frowned, but arched her back and closed them again as she felt small nips at the base of her neck, that soon trailed up her jugular to behind her ear. She whimpered softly as Crane's mouth descended to her collar bone, then lower, until the fabric of her borrowed shirt prevented any more skin to skin contact. Her sparkling hazel eyes opened again, meeting his brilliant blue ones.

"Undress for me." Jonathan commanded in a way that caused her heart to skip a beat. He stepped back, watching her intently as she scooted backward onto the desk. His eyes appreciated her exposed, long legs as she wiggled her toes out of her short black pumps, the shoes falling to the floor quietly. Rachel kept eye contact with Crane as she reached for the buttons of the baggy shirt, she could feel her heart beat with every flick of her buttons, and she was grateful when he moved forward to offer 'professional assistance' with the rest of them. His left hand moved quickly, unfastening the familiar buttons with ease as he rewarded the brunette with gentle, delicate kisses on her cheek and throat. She rested back against the desk again, exhaling in pleasure at the feeling of his velvety lips trailing downward. Her back arched into him at the feeling of his teeth grazing her hip bones and she rocked into him.

Crane looked up at Rachel's face, fascinated at her disheveled appearance, aroused and writhing on his desk, in his shirt, under him. The thought of it was almost too much. Instead he decided to continue downward. He smirked up at the now wide eyed Assistant D.A wickedly before causing her head to roll back, a long, soft moan escaped her lovely mouth as she bucked against him, scratching her nails against the wood underneath her. Soon, she was lightheaded from the pleasure of it all, her legs twitching as she pulsed underneath him.

Suddenly, she whined at the loss of contact as Jonathan unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk, taking out a condom from the contraband items box, only happy when she felt him on her once again. They kept eye contact in that moment, Rachel's legs wrapping around him in a vice-like grip as he began to move his hips into her. The woman's mewling sounds and grinding into him, matching his pace almost sent him over the edge as the smell of strawberries once again filled his senses. The brunette threw her arms around him, burying her nails into his back and gripping on for dear life as he buried his face in her neck. Whatever was left on the desk was soon kicked off and just when Rachel thought she would pass out, the doctor moved in a way that caused them both to climax together.

"Ah- Dr. Crane!" She cried out his name before she could bite it back causing the psychiatrist to look into her glazed over eyes, fully dilated.  
"Call me Jonathan." Rachel's eyes blinked twice as she registered what he said, then she smirked, pulling him in for a kiss.  
"Jonathan."

The two stayed clung to each other in a sweaty embrace, panting heavily until Jonathan finally recovered the strength to stand, pulling up the bottom half of his clothing and collapsing onto the office chair opposite of Rachel.

* * *  
A heavy silence filled the room, as both parties were left in their own personal shame, trying to wrap their heads around the reality of what just happened- their breathing being the only validation that either was still alive. Rachel quickly buttoned her borrowed shirt, slicking back her damp hair with both hands.  
'Did that just happen?' She thought, shame overwhelming her as she screamed internally at herself for allowing it to happen in the first place, and more importantly for wanting it to happen.

Jonathan, sensing her internal conflict, sympathized with her, as his mental battle waged on- beginning the second he collapsed into his chair.  
'You complete and utter fool. She is a factor that was not a part of the initial plan. She could ruin everything. If that happened, Ra's..." Just the thought of his name was enough to snap Crane back into reality.  
'We cannot tolerate distractions.' The man's attention turned back to the brunette, buttoning up the shirt he had lent her.  
'However tempting the distractions may be.' His thoughts reminded, as she returned his gaze. Crane stood up, rather harshly at the sound of knocking at his door. Saved by the bell, his attention turned fully toward the person seeking attendance with him, leaving Rachel to her own devices and far from his thoughts as she should be.

From Rachel's point of view, she couldn't be more relieved. Suddenly, just being in the presence of the man was too much for her. She was fine with any means of escape to avoid conversing with him, and sensed that he felt the exact same way- which she found relieve in, but in a way it also deeply saddened her.

Crane's orderly handed him their freshly laundered clothing in a huff, unfolded but dry. It was obvious to the both of them that he was not pleased with the task he had been given, but as the doctor took the clothing, the orderly spotted Rachel, provocatively dressed atop his desk. In a moment, his attitude changed, and he smiled mischievously at the man. She tried to make out what he said, but only heard the words "About time" and "Privacy" as he left with a wink, leaving quick enough to avoid Crane's retorts. With a scoff, the man roughly shut the door and strode over to the woman, awkwardly hopping off the desk.  
"Your clothes." He said quickly, handing them back to her and retreating to his closet to put away his newly laundered shirt, distancing himself as much as possible. The man preoccupied himself with the pair of dry pants he had been given, changing into them quickly and throwing the scrubs into the bottom of his closet. Crane felt a gentle hand touch his shoulder and turned around reluctantly to meet her hazel gaze. He noticed her half dressed appearance and quirked an eyebrow.  
"Could you help zip me up? It sticks." She asked softly as she rolled up the fabric of her high waist pencil skirt, wiggling in it as she tugged the material upward, then turned around so that the zipper faced him. Crane knew that she didn't really need any help getting dressed, but he obliged, against the wishes of his inner thoughts. His hand hovered slightly over the skin at the small of her back, reaching out to caress, but stopping before contact. Instead his hands grabbed the fabric of the skirt together, pulling the zipper up to the tiny clasp at the top. Upon fixing the clasp, it was Rachel who pulled away first, buttoning the rest of her blouse hurriedly and taking her purse in her hand. Her mouth was a tight line, indicating that she was displeased. Whether that displeasure was at him, the situation, or maybe even at herself he did not know- perhaps all three, but for whatever reason he knew he did not like this Rachel. As she put her hair up into a high ponytail he was reminded of their previous encounters, their relationship before tonight. Assistant District Attorney, Rachel Dawes, the idealist. The girl who was all business and quite frankly a big thorn in his side, this made it much easier to stick to business himself- but as she wrapped her hair tie around her gathered hair, he couldn't help but move toward her.

"Keep it down." He said, so quiet his thoughts almost completely drowned the words out in protest. His eyes caught her slight hesitation, slowing her hands before they ultimately stopped. As her hair fell back down around her face, he caressed her softened features; glad that her scowl had left her face, but soon he realized that he couldn't enjoy this any longer.  
"I'll have Barry take you home after his rounds. Just give him your home address." He said frankly, opening the door and ushering her out of his office with a small nod to the hallway.  
"Ah, alright." She said, suddenly confused and put off by Crane's disinterest in accompanying her. Once again, the woman found herself adrift behind her escort, in a deep fog of thought most likely just as she was. The events that had previously taken place in his office became a taboo topic of a past all too far away, however badly the brunette wished to bring it up. But with the rapidly growing distance between the two, Rachel doubted that their last words would be anything memorable to make this evening have a happy ending. Given, she also doubted this entire encounter would lead to anything 'happy'.

As they made their way to the elevator in perfect silence, she stole a glance at Crane, who was in deep thought with a sort of scowl placed across his face.  
"Great." She could have slapped herself for allowing things to go so far out of hand.

The elevator doors open to the security detail orderly who had greeted them upon their arrival and once again she appreciated the company while it lasted. Anything was better than silence in the presence of Dr. Crane, and at least the attention could be diverted to another person for the time being. Unfortunately, the man only stayed on to accompany them to the door, then decided to give them privacy as the other orderly had. News traveled fast.  
Rachel blushed.  
"Barry should be nearing the end of his rounds, wait here and he should pull up shortly." He said, set to leave.  
"Could you wait with me? This is an insane asylum after all."  
"Are you implying that my asylum isn't secure?" Crane said suddenly, making her regret her choice of words immediately.  
"No, that's not what I meant at all. I just wanted to..."  
"You just assumed that I would be free to babysit you after our little tryst. Which is- however you spin it, exactly that. A tryst and nothing more. I'm sorry Miss Dawes, but you may have the wrong idea here. I am not interested in speaking with you about our brief affair, and as far as I'm concerned it never even happened- which I would suggest you do as well." Crane's icy stare sparkled slightly in the light of the atrium, chilling her almost as thoroughly as his words. Her emotions flared from hurt, to a sadness so deep she had to fight back tears, until a burning anger which started in the pit of her stomach exploded like a firecracker within her. She clenched her jaw slightly before standing up as straight as she possibly could and slapping the psychiatrist right across his beautifully deceiving features. She was wrong; his last words to her were definitely memorable.

Jonathan's face stayed in the same position it stopped at when Rachel's hand connected with his cheek. The slap itself had little power behind it, but his skin still stung at the feeling. Laughter filled his thoughts at the gesture, crazed, spiteful laughter.  
"You unimaginable bastard." She almost choked on the words as they came out, quickly finding her resolve as she stared up into his eyes, defiant as ever.  
"Good night, Miss Dawes." Crane said, void of any emotion that may keep her from calling his bluff.  
"Good night." She scoffed, taking her purse in her arms and rushing down the stairs before she could break in front of him. She heard the door close behind her, but felt eyes watching her as she waited for Barry's car.

Luckily, she came quicker than she had thought, and soon she was in the back of his black town car giving him directions as he turned around. As Rachel left, she looked back at the asylum, Crane's silhouette nowhere in sight as she buried her head into her hands, exhaling quietly as tears welled up in her eyes. She mentally screamed at herself for being so blind.

Off in the far corner of the atrium window, Jonathan watched her leave, only stepping away from the window once Barry's taillights disappeared down the driveway.  
'Jonathan, you fool...'

* * *  
Rachel Dawes waved to her ride as she unlocked the front door to her apartment building. She was grateful that the Arkham employee didn't make an attempt to talk to her during their ride out of the Narrows, minus the occasional inquiries on the quickest route to her address. Unlike the other employees of the asylum, Rachel genuinely liked Barry. He was always courteous and nice to her, even when she was barging in, demanding to see Dr. Crane. Her eyes glazed over at the thought of the psychiatrist, whom she had just slept with moments ago, and as she closed the door behind her the woman couldn't help but break down. She found herself leaning against the wall and covering her mouth as tears slid down her face. She stood there for a moment in complete silence, composing herself before starting up the old rickety stairs to her apartment. After clearing the first flight of stairs, she scoffed, wondering what it was that she expected to happen. After all, it wasn't as if she wanted an actual relationship with the man. It wasn't logical. She fiddled with her keys for a moment, accidentally dropping them on her welcome mat in front of her door. The brunette stared down at them for a long moment before picking them up.

But if she didn't expect anything, why did she feel so broken?

Upon entering her apartment, Rachel made a bee-line straight for her shower, turning on the faucet and undressing as the old water heater soon adjusted the temperature to scalding and filled the room with thick steam. She stepped into the tub, quickly shutting the shower curtain behind her, then stood underneath the stream of hot water. The woman felt her skin tingle at the temperature of the water, but made no attempt to change it. Rachel grabbed a loofah, scrubbing it into a bar of soap before rubbing it into her skin on all of the places Crane had touched her. Scrubbing her right thigh with extra vigor as she remembered him holding her leg, so gently. She threw the loofah into the basin and rinsed off before exiting the shower in a huff, reaching for a towel and bundling up the soft cotton material to dry her face. She held the towel to her eyes for a few seconds before emitting a frustrated groan, wrapping the towel around herself and opening the bathroom door. The cool air of the apartment soothed her pink skin as she walked into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed face first. She took a moment before curling up into a tiny ball, hugging a pillow to her chest and sighing.

"Rachel, you complete fool."

* * *

**[Author's Note:]** Oh yeah, stuff got real in this chapter. Unfortunately I have an extremely dirty mind, and was unsure of how much of the sex scene I could write- so I censored and deleted a lot of pre-written stuff. *cries* It was really good too... Now I know how directors feel. (But I can't release a director's cut!)

But alas, I felt that I was dwelling too much on both of them being stimulated by each other and I felt that I needed to hurry along with the climax (hehe) Sorry, foreplay fans!

As usual, please rate/subscribe/favorite!  
If you hated it, tell me what you would've done! If you loved it, shoot me some love!

Thanks again,  
Miaiko-sama


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